


Leap

by Piker_Benunder



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Comedy, Far Future, Gen, Loneliness, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 14:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piker_Benunder/pseuds/Piker_Benunder
Summary: The year is 2020, and humanity has built something most remarkable: a time machine. Erin, a scientist involved in its creation, is the first person to step through and travel a thousand years into the future. There, she is greeted by an alien world. But luckily for her, a familiar face has been patiently waiting for her arrival.





	Leap

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the following writing prompt: You are part of a time travel experiment in 2020, and end up being flung a thousand years into the future. When you arrive, a familiar face is there to greet you, who says they took "the long way".
> 
> I'm in the long and arduous process of turning this prompt into a longer, finished story – at the point of uploading this, it stands at roughly 39k words. The full title I'm currently imagining for the story is, "Leap, or: The Virtue of Punctuality". But since the addendum doesn't make sense for this work or chapter by itself, I thought it best to just leave it out for now.

This is really it, Erin thought as she stepped into the time machine. All farewells had been dealt with, all goodbyes had been said. Her heart racing in her chest, she closed her eyes. As she was embraced by a blinding light, she couldn't help but smile and wonder what she might be greeted by.

An instant later, it was over. Slightly dizzy and disoriented, she cautiously stepped out of the time machine. Well, that was underwhelming, she thought. Her eyes were still adjusting, and the dark surroundings weren't helping with that.

"Hi."

Erin let out a silent scream and almost fell to the floor. While she had hoped to see a friendly face, she hadn't expected the first thing she would experience to be the cheerful voice of a research assistant she frequently worked with, by the name of Lamar. He looked almost the same, just a few years older.  
"So much for a thousand years," she said. Even though her mission of travelling to the year 3020 had evidently failed, apparently she had nonetheless successfully travelled through time, which she judged to still be a sizeable achievement.

Lamar gave her a puzzled look at first, then visibly understood what she meant. "You mean this?" he asked, pointing to his face, smiling. "No, it's literally been exactly a thousand years since you vanished in that machine. Down to the second."

Slowly, Erin looked around the room. Nothing appeared to have been used in decades, with thick layers of dust and cobwebs covering everything. Except the time machine. If she hadn't known any better, she'd have thought it was brand new. Turning back to Lamar, she struggled for words. "Wha-... how... wh-..." she stammered, until finally, she managed to utter the one word that concisely encapsulated her disposition towards the general situation. "Huh?"

A hearty laugh erupted from Lamar, one Erin had heard many times before. This small piece of familiarity supplied her with a modicum of ease, lessening her tension and anxiety. "Yes, I'm sure this is a lot to take in,” he said. “Do you remember Project Lazarus?"

"Of course," she answered after a brief pause. Project Lazarus, a plan to upload human consciousness to a storage device, functionally creating immortality, had been in its early phases when she had last heard about it. A thousand years ago. "Congratulations. How long did it take?"

"12 years. We had a few breakthroughs shortly after you left. Due to reasons involving technical limitations, at the time, I was the only one to be... transferred." Now speaking in a sombre tone, the cheerfulness had left his voice. "We hoped we could solve those problems. We couldn't. So I became the first and last digital mind, as the media called me."

"What... can you do?"

"I have a few bodies like this in different parts of the world, modelled after me when the procedure was done. I can switch between them, and I could even control more than one in a certain radius, though I prefer to inhabit only one at a time. Makes me feel..." He didn't finish his sentence, instead staring into blank space.

Not wanting to push that topic further, Erin asked, "Where is everyone else?"

After a few seconds, he looked back at her. "Come, I'll tell you on the way," he said as he started walking towards the elevator. The research complex they were in was several stories underground, thus getting back to the surface took its time. After they went inside the dimly lit cabin and Lamar pushed the big "0", he took a deep breath. "I'll be blunt. Humanity is no more."

Erin had prepared for this situation. Humans surviving for another thousand years? At the rate things were going in 2020, while not completely out of the question, it would have been naïve not to take this outcome into consideration. Still, the news did put a dent in her otherwise steadily normalising mood. "What happened?" she asked bleakly.

"War, pestilence, famine, natural disasters," he said equally as bleakly. "The usual and expected," he added with a weary smile.

"Yeah." Erin let out an honest laugh, smiling for the first time since she left the time machine. It wasn't the weight of what she had just been told making her mad. It wasn't that she had missed the death of the human race, sparking an episode of existential dread. Rather, she felt liberated. No desperate mission to save the last remnants of human civilisation, no burden of being the saviour, and certainly no post-apocalyptic madness. All in all, this was actually one of the more positive outcomes she and her colleagues had theorised.

Suddenly, she remembered Lamar and the life he must have lived. "When did the last ones die, if you don't mind my asking?"

"About 700 years ago."

"Must've been boring, being all by yourself," she said, trying to sound as compassionate as possible without appearing to pity Lamar.

To Erin's surprise, a roguish smile crossed Lamar's lips. "Many things can happen during 700 years, you know?" He put his hand on her shoulder. "I never said I didn't have any visitors."

Perfectly timed, the elevator stopped and opened its door. Soft sunlight gleamed into the small cabin, warming Erin. As they stepped outside, Erin, once again, was able to find the one word exactly describing what was currently going through her head. "Huh?"


End file.
